


Keep Your Body Here

by NicoleAnell



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-14
Updated: 2007-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleAnell/pseuds/NicoleAnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet written for the 2006 Porn Battle. Prompt was <i>Six/Gaius, blaze</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Your Body Here

But it's not like this. There is a beach. There's the brightest sunlight, yes, and he can hear water lapping on the sand, and there should be lifeguards. He should have remembered to put lifeguards there, because someone could drown. His mind was otherwise occupied. It was remembering the exact shape of her nipples, how small and dark they are, and how he would push them so urgently when they were still half-clothed, like he was hitting the _faster_ button, because when she was wet and gasping she got his trousers off sooner. It was the _bypass_ button, when he couldn't take anymore of her cock-teasing, the closed-mouth kisses, the "Do you love me?" like a boysick prom date, so he'd take her whole breast in his hand and press that protruding nub with his thumb in circles, because for gods' sake, he only wanted to be inside her. It was the _no more talking_ button.__

This kind of control is now like an anecdote about one's grandparents, because it's that far away in concept, that difficult to fathom. But it's true, he had needs once that were easily fulfilled. He had small and delicious windows of power before he knew her name.

More to the point, right, if this were real life and a real beach, the sun would be less blazing and there would definitely be lifeguards. But that's only if he thinks too hard, and if he thinks too hard the sunlight will leave entirely and Six will be gone and he won't be able to move his hands over her thighs. There will be metal straps and he will say the same things over and over for the rest of his life, please, they will kill him before they let him out of this chair, please please please, but it's not like this. He can move his hands over her smooth round thighs, and she dips and rocks in a rhythm he likes because it is familiar and steady -- up, _down_, back, up, _down_, back; this is not irrational blinding shocks through his body, this is logic and math and he can time his breaths to it -- and he is only sweating because she's making him work, and he's only sore because she has teeth that are rough and pleasant and clever, and he is only a little frightened because he hears the tide getting high and there should be lifeguards. And he believes in her, he believes when she comes, eyes closed and trembling with electric joy. She is all the stars and the angels of mercy, and once that's over she lets him pause, lets him take this slower now, because he just wants a moment to kiss her shoulders, darling, he just wants to hear three words.


End file.
